Just What the Doctor Ordered
by Amanda Carlsson
Summary: It's 1918. Edward is lying on his death-bed waiting for peace to release him from the pain he's suffering through. Enters Carlisle. ---This is Edwards transformation into a vampire, told from his POV.


_**Preface**_

_I wasn't dead, but every fiber of me wished for it, even hell would be a better place than the one I found myself in._

_I had almost forgotten what it was to be alive, for even though my heart was only just still beating, life was something I lost a while back. Darkness was my ever and only company now._

_I couldn't tell you how long I'd been like this; my grasp on time was disappearing along with my numbered breaths. I only knew that time was a changing thing, but nothing had changed for me in quite some time. The torments held no pity._

_I'd never thought that one person could feel so much pain. The fact that it didn't cause my fragile body to burst from the force of it all still seemed incredulous. There was nothing I could do to escape it. I never moved, but the sheer contact my limp body made with the small bed was enough to keep any relief at bay. With every breath it felt like I was gulping down the sand from the hourglass of my existence, judging by the weight in my dry chest there couldn't be much time left. I was 17._

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The faint sound of someone coming over to the side of my bed brought me closer to consciousness. A cold breeze followed with and blew over my feverish head. The relief was instant and over in a second. This someone hovered at my right side, hesitating. I could almost hear the thoughts racing across my visitors mind; they were somehow much louder than the steps had been. I was momentarily distracted from my persecution.

I fought against all the pain and slowly opened my heavy eyelids. The room was dimly lit but that didn't keep the little light from stinging my eyes and making my head throb even worse. I winced slightly but quickly stopped as it only caused more discomfort.

The person next to me moved closer by the sound of my agony and I could feel the air turn somewhat cooler. I welcomed the change.

I looked up, searching for my benefactor. The face I saw was one I recognized. It was Dr. Cullen. He had treated both me and my parents but neither of our futures looked good. So the sullen expression on his face didn't surprise me, I knew what was coming.

Despite his troubled expression he looked like an angel. His skin was pure white and smooth like marble. When he spoke, the words danced to the purest of melodies. Even his scent was appealing, I couldn't name it; I'd never smelled anything like it. He was in every sense beautiful; the haze over my eyes couldn't disguise that.

As I watched him he sat down on the edge of the bed besides me, careful not to cause me any discomfort. The bed shifted slightly under his weight but the coolness radiating off of him revoked any sense of ache brought on by the motion.

His mind was racing again as he watched me. He was contemplating something. Whatever it was it brought a crease to his otherwise flawless forehead, but there was light in his eyes… Hope, I decided.

I'd always been good at reading people.

Dr. Cullen took my right hand in his. It was cold as ice. The sensation was comfortable against my feverish skin but it somehow felt cooler than what would seem natural. He looked straight into my eyes and I was astounded by the brilliant gold that I found in his. It was almost as if they were glowing.

He just looked at me and I couldn't make myself look away, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to.

Just then I could hear the perfect sound that was his voice, but I was sure he hadn't moved his lips.

"I'm sorry for this, but I made her a promise."

Before I knew it his teeth had found my neck and I could feel where they punctured my skin. I couldn't scream. I was either too shocked or too weak to find my voice.

My mind was full and empty at the same time.

The angel had come for me. My time was up, but I hadn't expected it to happen like this. It seemed off—wrong.

Then something new filled my head. I could feel it emanating from my neck where the angel's teeth were still buried. My skin was already hot from the high fever but I could feel it turn warmer still.

Blistering.

It felt like a fire was erupting inside of me, small at first but growing quickly. Everywhere the flames gushed, new ones sprang to life. The pain was excruciating. This exceeded anything I'd ever felt before. How was it possible? I was absolute positive my head was going to explode.

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was drowning on dry land, for the fire now filled my lungs and there wasn't enough oxygen to sustain us both.

This was hell. I was certain of it. There was no angel sitting beside me. I had been right in thinking he'd come to take me away, only it was to a different place entirely.

I could barely hear the words over the roaring of the flames as my reaper spoke to me.

"I'm so sorry. It will be alright, you will be alright," they were words of reassurance but they did little to force the walls that closed me in this abyss of agony.

With every beat of my heart the flames, and with them the pain, were sent further out in my body, violating every space they could find, leaving nothing untouched.

I found my lungs and an agonizing scream escaped my lips. It was as if I'd suddenly awoken from a comma, my legs kicked and my arms flew at the air. I was crashing at everything and nothing. Like a fish on dry land I fought against the pain but nothing I did had any effect.

My body burnt on.

I arched my back and shrieked out my pain. I could feel a pair of strong hands holding me down on the bed. I made a feeble attempt to fight against them but it made no difference to the level of pain no matter how I was positioned so I gave in.

I realized that I was still in the hospital; Dr. Cullen hadn't taken me away, yet. I was shocked that someone could experience this level of pain and still be alive.

My breathing was rapid and the rate of my heartbeat sped up along with it. It felt as if it might pound its way through my ribs and escape my chest.

For how long would this go on? I had no idea how much or how little time had passed since the first flames had scalded me. I begged for death to come and take me. Take me away from this torturous place of being. The pain I thought I had felt before was nothing compare to this, I hadn't felt pain up until now, for the fire inside of me made every previous memory of hurt feel like a soft summer breeze.

I longed for the sand to wash down into my lungs and choke their hostile occupant, but none of my wishes were heard anymore. Every beating of my heart held enough pain to kill me over and over, but I wasn't that lucky.

I was a prisoner in my personal purgatory, sentence to burn, and so I did.

As my cries grew fewer and weaker I noticed that there were other sounds as well, they were everywhere. At first I had only heard the roaring of the flames, the fast, heavy beating of my heart, the wheezing sound that came with every breath I took. I couldn't escape these sounds for they were hammering against my ears. But as the fire raged on I grew aware of other things.

Somewhere a clock was ticking down the seconds. There it was; the first indication of time passing. I concentrated on the ticking; the sound was a life buoy.

I could hear hurried steps from all around, some closer than others, and each with their own rhythm.

I could gradually hear the quick, perfect voice of the doctor who still hadn't left my side. He appeared to be talking to himself. It was difficult to grasp everything he was saying, it all came out very fast and the words didn't seem to have any particular order to them. But the feelings behind his words were crystal clear. Remorse—concern—repulsion. He was scolding himself.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry," he whispered this mantra every now and again.

"The pain will go away. You will be alright," it sounded as he was trying to convince himself rather than me.

I wanted so badly to believe him but I couldn't imagine anyone ever being anything at all after this infinite torture. Would there _be_ an _after_? I expected my body to crumble into a pile of ashes any second now.

Then, I didn't know how much later, something changed. The burning still raged on but there had been a shift. Something felt different—better.

It was the greatest sensation I'd ever felt. The fire was by some miracle retreating from my fingers and toes.

My heart started to fly. As the beating stepped up, the burning in my arms and legs lessened.

My bliss was short-lived.

It wasn't just the beating that intensified in my chest. The fire that had left my extremities wasn't gone, it had merely moved. It had relocated itself within my heart. The heat in my chest was reaching an excruciating level. This seemed impossible. I'd already felt the worst pain there was, how could it by any means get worse than that?

Somehow it did, and it kept on growing. With every beat the heat intensified and with every increasing degree my heart pumped faster.

There was very little liberation in the fact that the rest of my body no longer burned, for the torture was now concentrated to this sole incarceration.

This pain went beyond any other and even though nothing helped I couldn't remain still anymore. I dug my heels into the bed, arched my back again, and let out a deafening roar.

Dr. Cullen placed a soothing hand on my shoulder. I expected it to be ice cold like it had been before, especially considering the fire that had raged through me. But it felt normal; there were no difference in temperature between his skin and my own.

My heart was beating so fast now it sounded more like one single never-ending tone than the raging of a burning heart. The sound was terrifying.

I braced myself for the end; I could sense that it was close now. My body slumped back down on the bed.

Many things happened at once. First I noticed how everything seemed to grow more quite. It took a while until I realized that I had stopped screaming and my breathing slowed into something less frenzied. Then the fire in my racing heart changed again. It growled heatedly but slowly, and finally, it began to evaporate.

Ecstasy and harmony filled me just as potently as the fire had.

Grudgingly, the last flames released its final hold on me. And with it, the racing stopped. My heart let out a desolate thud and everything went silent.


End file.
